Equations
by purplemud
Summary: It’s a simple enough equation, even Tim understood it and that was saying a lot
1. Chapter 1

**Equations  
**By Grace (purplemud)

Disclaimers: Me don't own. Standard disclaimers apply.  
Rating: 2-3 (for language)  
Pairings: Naley  
Summary: Naley tutoring session, one shot  
Spoilers: AU Season One (I just adore season one Naley) Let's just say that the kiss-ass Dan Scott jamboree happened a little differently. There was no drunk bitchy Brooke, no note and no serial date for Naley.  
Notes: I still kind of feel that Naley's beginnings was a tad too rushed, not that I'm complaining I still love Season One Naley the best… but, ehh… yeah, here's the fic. Please let me know what you guys think. The ending is all sorts of cheesy and a little OCC, but I couldn't help it.

**Equations**

It's a simple enough equation, even Tim understood it and that is saying a lot.

Shit-faced Bastard-son Lucas Scott minus bestfriend Mousy Tutor Girl Haley James equals miserable, fucked up Lucas Scott equals Happy Nathan Scott.

See, simple. None of the stupid x and y's shit that he's currently, blankly staring at.

And this should explain why he's being tutored at 7 in the morning, with his brains still lodged somewhere beneath the covers of his now sinfully empty bed.

Simple fucking equation and he was royally fucking it all up.

He couldn't help but let out a snicker. Royally fucking it all up. His grandfather and asshole of a father would just love that.

"What's so funny?" The voice is low, musical, annoyed and curious all at the same time.

Me, he answers mentally. I'm being funny. I'm being so fucking funny because I am honestly, actually trying to get a good grade for this stupid exam because it's getting me all fucked up just wondering how dumb you think I must be. He doesn't say this of course, instead he looks up, frowns and asks, "What does self-depreciating mean?"

He immediately cringes at the tone of his voice. On the edge, challenging. This isn't his best day. He isn't being his best charming self today and he best remember that he needs to be charming to win her over.

Except that it's getting to be so tiring. And all he wants is to be himself when he's with her but he doesn't know how to be that.

Well, actually he knows. He's an arrogant, insensitive jerk off. He knows it. His parents knows it. His girlfriend knows it. Everyone knows it. Hell, even she knows it, but he doesn't want to be that guy when he's with her.

Not anymore.

And fuck that, when did happen? Isn't he supposed to notice things like that? The fact that he didn't scared the shit out of him. Somehow, somewhere she had slipped past his defenses, crawled underneath his skin, stayed there, festered, grew, deepen. Whatever.

All he knows is that she's there. And she's not supposed to be there. That wasn't part of the plan.

"I didn't know there's a vocabulary exercise on your math practice test." She answers playfully.

He tries not to chuckle. She's always saying something funny. Not the Tim ha-ha-ha-gross kind of funny, just sort of silly funny and he's supposed to be above that, but apparently, if it's her, he's not. "Peyton asked me the other day if I was being self-depreciating."

"Oh." This earns him a raised eyebrow. Not perfectly arched, no penciled perfect curved line that he was so used to seeing with other girls. This raised eyebrow wasn't trying to be coy, or inviting, or cute. She's genuinely caught off guard by the information he just shared, he could see it on the lines appearing on her forehead, and yet that was exactly what her raised eyebrows looked like: a little coy, definitely inviting, most definitely cute.

He knows that she's trying to work out if answering his question will somehow mean… what?

With him, the possibilities were endless. He could be trying to bait her into an argument or probably a round of sometimes one-sided flirting or maybe he was gearing up to throw some more mud into Lucas' name.

It's an innocent enough question but he's letting her figure it out. He has no agenda today other than to just get through the tutoring without making it more obvious how badly he needed to be tutored. Maybe make her smile, maybe get her to ride with him to school this time, maybe get to smell that nameless clean, faintly flowery scent of her hair again.

How fucking sad is that?

It's taking her a little too long to answer and he's guessing it's because he's so openly smirking at her. He doesn't know how to actually genuinely smile. At least not like the way she does: the corner of her lips curling, her impossibly huge, impossibly warm, impossibly brown eyes dancing.

Eyes dancing.

Fuck. He's quickly turning out to be the kind of pansy he had promised himself years ago never to become one. Next thing, he'll be following her around school like some love sick puppy.

"Well," she clears her throat, looks down at the table. He could tell she's blushing and that's another thing that endlessly fascinates him. He follows the line of her sight, wonders what she could've found there that was suddenly interesting and he notices that she's wearing the crackerjack bracelet that he had given her.

This makes him want to smile but all he could feel is his upper lips pulling up in another one of his smirks.

"It…it means belittling one's self. But, probably, you know, mostly in jest." She seems wary of the question.

Ah. Well, apparently, he knew what it meant. At least he's got that one right.

"What did you...I mean, why did Peyton tell you that?" She asks suddenly, scrunching up her face, the little wrinkles in the bride of her nose making their appearance, jaws working silently, mouth a little askew.

God, she looks so… so Haley James. No other girl he has ever met, ever made out with, ever had sex with had such an openly, expressive face.

He wants to know all her expression.

So far, he has seen her annoyed, sad, wistful, pissed off, flustered, confused and he is thinking, he needs to know - badly - how she'll look after he had his way with her.

Oh, yeah, he'll have to start of with a kiss. No. No. He'll have to start touching her first. Her wrist. He likes her wrist. Slender. Pale. And then her neck. Graceful and so smooth-looking. Then the dips of her collarbone. Fucking sexy as hell. He'll trace his fingers all over her skin, watch her mouth slightly open, and watch her let out a breathy sigh. Or maybe, she'll bite her lips.

Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it.

He shakes his head, clearing the mental images that were rushing into his brain, into his blood streams and heading straight towards his groin.

Who would've fucking thought he'd get turned on during a tutoring sessing at 7 in the morning?

She's staring expectantly up at him and he remembers her question. He remembers being inside his room telling Peyton that he didn't think that they'd work out anymore, that they ever actually worked out. He remembers Peyton agreeing with him, seeing her smiling up at him, fondly, for the first time ever since they had started dating. He remembers almost blurting out that it's Haley, she's the one. But stopping himself only to remember that he's supposed to be doing these - the tutoring, laying off Lucas for a while - all to piss stain in the bedsheet Lucas.

How fucking ironic that he's the one currently pissed off because Lucas actually met her first, found her first.

"Nathan?"

The silence hangs between them. Heavy, foggy. He's feeling the weight of his own stupidity. He looks away, silently listens as Haley mumbles her apologies.

She's saying that she's always been nosy. A bad habit. Something she got from her sister, Taylor or something. She's saying not to mind her rambling, even though Nathan never really minded, he likes her rambling, like the way he likes everything else about her.

Even the stupid poncho she loves to wear was becoming almost endearing to him. Even the fact that she's Lucas' bestfriend didn't seem so bad to him anymore. It's even gotten him to think that it might even be a good thing and not in the Getting Back Sticking it to his Brother kind of way.

He should've gotten himself tutored first, Nathan thinks to himself. That way, he would've never gotten way over his head.

Simple equation. Yeah, right.

There's nothing ever simple when it comes to him and his brother and now, with Haley, it's bound to get even more complicated.

Because now, the only equation stuck inside his head, defiantly mocking him is: Nathan Scott + Haley James _equals_ forever.

* * *

See, told you, cheesy ending. LOL.


	2. Chapter 2

**Equations**  
By Grace (purplemud) 

Disclaimers: Me don't own. Standard disclaimers apply.  
Rating: 2  
Pairings: Naley  
Summary: Naley tutoring session, one shot that suddenly become a two-parter  
Spoilers: AU Season One (I just adore season one Naley) Let's just say that the kiss-ass Dan Scott jamboree happened a little differently. There was no drunk bitchy Brooke, no note and no serial date for Naley.  
Notes: Oh, wow, thanks you guys for the comments. I really appreciate them. So much that it got me to write a Haley POV. I hope this doesn't appoint. Please let me know what you guys think.

**Equations**

Nathan Scott equals trouble.

A simple, factual equation. Nothing complex about it at all. In fact, there's nothing to be done about it. There were no other variables involved that could change it. No x or y's or anything else that could alter the outcome of that equation.

She knows that. Even more so now that she's tutoring him.

Lucas thinks it's completely insane. He thinks that she's being too kind. Too kind? Is there even such a thing? Isn't kindness supposed to be a be-all, end-all sort of virtue? It's either you're kind or not. There is nothing _kinda_ in kindness, therefore, there also shouldn't be a thing such as _too much_ kindness. Isn't that, kind of like, redundant?

Haley pauses, gets a hold of her train thoughts that was, as always, quickly getting out of hand.

Oh, God, Lucas is right: this is insanity.

He's wrong about one thing though. She wants to tell him that it isn't exactly kindness, per se, but more of want and need. And frankly, maybe even a little bit of like and lust too.

Okay, maybe a lot of that.

Is that so wrong?

The truth is and really, this _is_ the truth: she's beyond disturbed by the fact that over the course of three weeks, two days, eleven hours and 15 minutes of tutoring Nathan Scott, lately she's been picturing him sitting by the docks, glaring at the practice tests wearing nothing but his blue, white and black basketball shorts. No shoes, no socks.

And, footnote: he has big feet.

Big hands and big feet.

_Dear God._

It's not fun. Seriously. She's been having nightmares about it.

Yes, invisible-youngest-James-daughter-slash-café-waitress-slash-singer-wannabbe-slash-tutor-girl-slash-Lucas' Scott-bestfriend- slash-Nathan Scott's-half-brother-slash-oh-my-God-what-have-I-gotten-myself-into-ramble-me-amaze-Haley-James has been constantly, without much needed prompting, imagining Nathan Scott shirtless.

Near naked, actually, but why go into specifics?

It's not about the boy, she tells herself. It's all about the abs. It could've been any other boy as far as she's concerned, just as long as it's the same abs. Was it her fault that the abs belonged to Tree Hill High Jackass of the Year Nathan Scott slash… oh, crap, she's _so_ not going to go there. Again.

And it's not like Lucas would like to hear her say that. It was bad enough that she once mentioned how blue Nathan's eyes were and Lucas just about had an aneurysm. It's not like she can't _not_ notice that. She can't help it. How was she supposed to talk to him? Gaze at some fixed point by his shoulder?

Because God forbid she starts acting all weird on him.

_Are you my tutor or my shrink?_

_I'll be anything that you need._

Slash-pathetic. She must add that to her many slashes.

So whenever Lucas would find it in himself to disdainfully ask about her _torturing_ sessions with Nathan, haha, by the way, she keeps her mouth shut, pouts, frowns, puffs a piece of strangly brown hair and deftly change the subject.

Lucas lets it slide. He doesn't insist anymore that she gives a blow-by-blow account of how she and Nathan are famously getting along. He rather that she talks about random things than hear her say something nice about Nathan. It annoys her, especially when Lucas is being a real caveman about the whole thing. They have had several incredibly inane conversations and arguments that start with:

_"Why don't you just drop your pants and pee on me, go on Luke, if it'll make you feel better"_

She has to admit though that she enjoyed the sight of Lucas visibly paling, sputtering, flailing his arms about as he tried to assure her that it wasn't a guy-testosterone-overdrive-territorial thing.

_"And really, Hales, I will never piss on you unless it's a medical necessity."_

Euw, by the way.

The last thing she wants is to be in the middle of a tug of war between two angry, broody brothers. Taylor and Quinn might think of this as some twisted romantic epic saga of tacky paperback novels proportion but she knows not to get herself carried away by the sudden drama surrounding her.

Once the term is over everything will be back to normal. She won't have to tutor Nathan. She'll go back to being her old usual mousy, bookwormy self. Be the same supportive bestfriend and attend some of Lucas' basketball game, maybe even convince Keith that a wave doesn't have to involve the whole crowd, just the two of them would do.

And she might even see Nathan Scott shirtless once in a while.

Win-win for her.

But she feels the changes. Sees it, hears it, talks about it even - or at least as covertly as possible. It's not like Lucas would really notice. He's been pretty busy trying to fulfill his life long quest of finally getting Peyton Sawyer to actually acknowledge his existence. She's happy for Lucas, she really is. Lucas has been the lonely boy, silently standing by the shadows, watching Peyton all those years. He deserves this chance but the timing is just way, way off. It's making everything so much more complicated.

She sighs and lays her head against the shiny counter that she had just polished to perfection. This will leave marks, she thinks, and then I'll have to clean it all up again.

Ugh. For a smart girl, she could sometimes be really, really dumb.

"Bad day?" Luke asks, sidling up beside her.

This translates to: Please tell me how much of a jackass Nathan has been to you today.

She can't tell Lucas that today she actually let Nathan drive her to school. She can't tell Lucas how pleasantly surprised she had been when Nathan, upon seeing her cringing at his God awful rap music, had let her decide which radio station they could listen to on the way to school. She can't mention the fact that he actually opened the door for her, told her to have a nice day, thanked her for letting him be a nice guy, for once. Lucas can't know how Nathan had reluctantly, sheepishly offered to walk her to class. She can't tell her bestfriend how the whole ride had been the shining, glowing _thing_ of her whole day.

She also can't tell Lucas that Nathan had told her about his break up with Peyton.

_"We pretty much dumped each other at the same time."_ Was how Nathan had put it and he didn't seem so awfully torn about it either. There was an accepting, calm peaceful sort of tone in his voice.

She can't tell Lucas any of this. So she sadly picks up her head with a grunt, absentmindedly wipes the counter and asks: "How do you think I'd look if I were… say, blonde?" She watches silently as he pauses and gives her a worried, confused look that she sometimes really, really hate. Like today.

"Well that was completely random." Luke says, squinting at her. "Why would you want that?" He asks, truly perplexed.

He's her bestfriend. She can't fault him if he's completely, totally blind to how she looks. She wants to tell him that she wants golden locks of hair, like Peyton's or the rest of cheering squad. She wants it so that when she walks underneath the sun, she could glow. She'd have a pale, little yellow halo around her head. She wants to tell him that she wants to be pretty for a change, not just kind and smart and dependable and funny. She's wants to be all that _and_ pretty.

She doesn't remember ever wanting to be seriously pretty. She's a girl, so of course she's had moments of staring at the mirror contemplating on her looks, just not as often and obsessive as Taylor. She knows she isn't bad looking. She knows that she could be attractive to other boys. It isn't like she's never been on a date before; it isn't like no boy has ever said she looks nice. She also knows that she has other things to offer other than her looks. She knows that if a boy doesn't want to be with her just because she doesn't wear the right clothes and the right make up, he's not worth it. She knows all these, for what would Haley James be if she doesn't know things? The difference is, back then, it didn't really matter to her. Now… this time, it's... well, this time it's _different_.

"Hales?"

"I don't know." She shrugs, helpless, unable to explain herself. "I just, pffft, I'm being a girl, indulge me."

Lucas once told her how he loves it that she's a lot more together compared not only to her sisters but with girls her age. She doesn't act crazy, she speaks her mind, she isn't afraid not to care about the girly stuff. But Lucas has obviously forgotten that she's his best friend. Of course she's not going to care if she's being a dork because he's also being a dork and they were both doing the dorky thing together. He also hasn't factored in the fact that they have never experienced this whole liking other people stage and actually doing something about it.

Or attempting, or rather more like _contemplating_ on doing something about it.

"You'll look fine, whatever color your hair is. Except, maybe pink." He smirks at this, obviously pleased with his sharp wit and adorable humor.

Wrong answer.

She huffs down the stool and Lucas is quick to catch the change in her mood. He grabs her hand, pulls her to him so he could tuck her underneath his chin, preventing her from walking away from this conversation. They've been doing that a lot lately and tonight, it looks as though Lucas has had enough those quick exits. "Okay, I'm sorry, I thought you hated pink."

"I do." She mumbles, feeling safe, cocooned like this in Lucas' arms. She feels the same way when she's with Nathan, except with Nathan, when she closes her eyes, she could feel her heart doing all sorts of somersaults and it makes her feel nice and giggly and happy and strange but definitely in a good, good kind of way – and he hasn't even held her like this.

She refuses to acknowledge what this means.

Ok. That's a lie.

She has admitted to herself that she was dangerously, teetering on the edge of being in-like with Nathan Scott – at least the Nathan Scott that she's been tutoring. And it's not like the Nathan Scott of the last several years has been making its appearance. In fact lately, it seems as though that Nathan Scott, the kidnapping-bullying-jackass, is from another life time ago. And Haley is certain that it's going to take just one huge shove, just one, and she'll be a real, total goner.

The realization of that truth had been life-altering to say the least and she refuses to dwell on it. She's not into the brooding about feelings sort of thing. That's Lucas' forte. He's been brooding enough for both of them. Besides, she's well aware of the fact that once she gets settled with the idea, she'll eventually have to tell Lucas and Nathan – because she isn't the kind of girl to suffer from unrequited unspoken kind of love. She's brave enough to tell both boys how she feels, just not now.

"Hey, Hales." Lucas asks, interrupting her thoughts.

"Hmmm?"

"You'll tell me if there's something wrong right?"

Was it wrong that she thinks that Nathan deserves a second chance? She stares up into Lucas' eyes, takes a deep breath. Well, he asks for it. "I want to ask you something. About Nathan."

Lucas quickly steps back, pulling away from her. He lets out a huge sigh, pleadingly looks down at her. "Haley, don't. Don't do this. He isn't worth it. Whatever good side he's been showing you, it's not going to last. It's a façade. It's a trick. It's something not good and I don't want you to get hurt."

"How could you be so sure Luke?" She asks, not even thinking why she's coming to Nathan's defense, even though everything that Lucas had said makes sense. But something in her tells her that it's different.

Nathan's different. He isn't just the almighty basketball God of Tree Hill High, he isn't just Dan Scott's son. He isn't just a charming, cocky jerk. He's not. He could be better than that.

And Nathan's on the verge of discovering that.

_She_ was discovering that. "He deserves a second chance."

"Tell me why." Lucas says, clenching his jaws. "Just give me one good reason Haley."

"Because I… because he…" Haley stops, bites her lips, closes her eyes, feels her heart beating against her chest. Feels how sure, how certain she is and it scares her and she needs Lucas to be there for her because she can't do this alone, all by herself. "Because I want to give him that chance, Luke."

Lucas is silent. So damn silent, she can't even hear him breathing. For a moment, Haley thinks she might have actually killed him if it weren't for the fact that he's still standing in front of her and she can see his blue eyes intently watching her.

"Nathan's trouble." Lucas mutters darkly. "You know that. Don't let him fool you." With that, Lucas turns around, walks out of the empty café, the door swinging at his wake.

"Luke!" She calls back. "Lucas!" It takes her a few seconds to realize that Lucas is actually, really gone. Great. Apparently her bestfriend has acquired a fondness for the Prima Dona walk out attitude. Haley lets out a huge sigh, suddenly tired, suddenly sorry that she ever brought up Nathan's name. She hates upsetting Lucas. She hates arguing with him. Why can't she just let it go? Lucas is right. Nathan is trouble.

Well, no, not exactly.

She picks up her jacket, chews on her lips. Nathan is more like a complex equation and the only way to solve an equation is to actually have another variable to factor in.

She walks towards the door, her footsteps heavy. She has to go find Lucas and make him understand. She knows that eventually, he will, but she has to work on that. She knows he's being protective of her and she appreciates it but they just can't ignore the outside world anymore, not when it's quickly colliding with the world they had created for each other.

She slips the lock, makes sure it's secure before flipping the sign, wondering how it'll end up if she lets herself be fooled by Nathan Scott.

Badly, most probably, judging by the way Lucas had reacted. Still she couldn't help but think about.

Nathan Scott + Haley James _equals_

What?

_Heartache?_

Certainly doesn't spell always and forever, hearts and kisses.

She swallows hard. She knows the answer already. She's the smart girl. She already knows the outcome, the inevitable.

_Trouble_.

Capital T. Italized. Bold. Underlined. Blinking neon lights.

She wonders what in the world had possessed her to think that there was any possibility of having both Nathan and Lucas. It's impossible. How could she have ever thought that she might be enough to bridge their world?

She turns off the light, darkness flooding the café. It's a familiar kind of darkness and she isn't so scared to be all alone by herself like this anymore. She used to beg Lucas to wait up for her until closing time but not, she could this no problem at all. Everything inside the cafe is second nature to her. She knows it like the back of her hand and she lets this familiarity soothe her, distract her.

Normally, it does the trick. But not tonight.

Tonight she can't let go of it. She's too busy trying to work everything out inside her head to notice that light tapping sound of knuckles against glass. She continues with her nightly routine of closing up the café: check that everything's unplugged, everything is switched off, everything is where they should be. Glasses and cups lined up, straight, not an inch out of place. Plates, foks, knives, table napkins...

Haley suddenly jumps when she hears _his_ voice calling her name.

Her heart lurches somewhere, into her throat most probably, because she can't breathe and can't say anything at the same time.

He's standing there by the door and she notices his long shadow stretching all across the floor, all the way towards the counter. He doesn't speak again, doesn't call out her name again, doesn't do anything at all, just stands there, silently watching her. He's gotten her attention and now he's waiting for her next move.

What in the world is Nathan Scott doing here? She wonders to herself. She has never thouught, not in a million years, that she'll ever see him standing outside Karen's cafe.

And is she really even considering going over there? To what? Let him in? Tell him to go away?

She can't just ignore him.

She doesn't do anything, isn't actually inclined to do anything as her brain has stopped functioning and she can't process any other thought except that he's here and he's looking at her like he wants her.

He jerks his head once and she sees the outline of his jaws, strong and hard. She watches as he lets out an angry impatient sigh. He puffs a cloud of warm air, the glass door frosting, misting over, making him look a little blury. Except for his blue eyes. God, even from here she can see the blueness of his eyes.

And suddenly, he's staring to walk away and she's gripped by a kind of panic that she hasn't felt before. She can't let him walk away. She just can't.

At the back of her mind, she knows exactly what she's doing: she's opening the café door, she's stepping outside, she calling after him and she's running towards him, grateful that he had stopped, back turned against her, but waiting for her to catch up.

But more than that, she's well aware that she's running straight into trouble and there's no stopping her.

There's no stopping this. She can't even if she wants to. Her heart has already decided, stupid equation be dammed.


	3. Chapter 3

Equations  
By Grace (purplemud) 

Disclaimers: Me don't own. Standard disclaimers apply.  
Rating: 2-3 for language  
Pairings: Naley  
Summary: Naley tutoring session, one shot that suddenly become this whatever thing – lol.  
Spoilers: AU Season One (I just adore season one Naley) Let's just say that the kiss-ass Dan Scott jamboree happened a little differently. There was no drunk bitchy Brooke, no note and no serial date for Naley.  
Notes: Oh, wow, thanks you guys for the comments. I really appreciate them. So much that it got me to write another Nathan POV. It's even longer than the rest of the stuff I've written so far. I hope this doesn't disappoint. Please let me know what you guys think.

Equations

This is completely, totally out of character. Even for him. He has never been to this part of town. Ever. There's just something inexplicably bizarre about driving by the café owned by the woman his father has impregnated and then abandoned. If his mother can come up here for coffee, for a job, in search of friendship or release from years of guilt… well, not him. There isn't anything in the world that could've made him come here.

Except now.

He's realizing it too, just how completely screwed up everything is. The way he has to avoid anything and everything that has got to do with his father's inconvenient past – because that's how Dan had explained it to him when he was younger.

_Bad things happened in the past, son._

Mistakes, bad calls, bad decisions – completely unavoidable. Of course, nothing was his father's fault. His father has been a victim of the people around him out to ruin his life, his future. Dan did the right thing. Dan did the only thing that could be done. Dan did the smart thing. Dan had chosen the right woman. The right son. No one should fault him for that. It's his life. His decision to make. Dan did not screw up. Dan did not abandon anybody. Dan walked away and never looked back.

That's The Second Commandment of Dan Scott: Never, ever look back. The past is nothing but a worthless piece of shit. Easily erased, easily forgotten, easily thrown away. And ever since then, Nathan, like his dad, never looked back. There was nothing in the past worth getting all worked up about. People everywhere had bastard sons. Mistakes from the past. The important thing has always been to move on, build a life of their own, a future miles and miles away from the stains of those many, dead years already long gone.

His father as it turns out is a damn awful liar. Dan Scott is the one who is full of shit. The past is catching up with them. It's catching up so quickly, it has already wedged a way inside his life, already taking everything that he was rightfully his.

Lucas wants to be a Raven. He can have that. Nathan isn't going to wither and die just because Lucas is on the team. He's a better player than Lucas, everybody knows that. Sure, he isn't stupid, he knows that Lucas is good but everyone seems to have forgotten the fact that he's been playing high school basketball since before he was a freshman. Experience is just one of the many things he has that Lucas didn't. If Whitey wants to take Lucas into his wing, cuddle him and whatever, fine, he's not going to throw a tantrum about it.

Lucas wants his girlfriend, no problem. He can have her as well. He and Peyton were done with each other. They're better off as friends anyway. Nathan has admitted it to himself how badly he has treated Peyton. She didn't deserve that. Maybe even he didn't deserve the constant drama that was his relationship with Peyton. They've both happily ended their messed up relationship before things got even worst between them. If Lucas wants to pick up the pieces and have his happily ever after with Peyton, he's more than welcome.

Lucas wants his social status, great, he's free to screw all the cheerleaders and every other girl willing to throw themselves at him. He can be the King Almighty of Tree Hill High, Nathan doesn't give a flying fuck.

It's funny, how people think that whatever Nathan wants, Nathan gets.

Nathan never gets anything that he wants. He has to work hard for them. He has to train from five in the morning until eight in the evening, morning, noon and night, all the time, no breaks, no mistakes, no excuses. He has to lift weights until his whole body is numb and sore. He has to run until everything is blurry and bleary, until his lungs feels like it's nothing but a dead, useless piece of tissue lodged inside his rib cage.

And then there's Lucas: one lousy game at the Rivercourt and suddenly, he has it all.

Well, fuck that.

There's something that Nathan wants right and he's going to make sure that he gets it and this is the only explanation, the only reason why he's even here right now, standing at the corner of the very street he has successfully avoided for the last seventeen years of his life. He looks around, keeps his eyes away from the lighted café bearing the name of his father's young, stupid, high school mistake.

He knows she's still inside but he doesn't have to watch Lucas and Haley hug or laugh or clean or whatever it is that two might be doing. He's already spent an entire hour doing that and he has to admit that it's been boring and totally pointless. So instead, he keeps his eyes on the other end of the street, wincing at how miserable it all looks. No wonder he avoided this place.

Small-time family owned businesses. No-name shops (the kind Brooke Davis and Peyton Sawyer would never even know existed). A crammed, single-story bookstore. Some poser-wannabee-Rolling Stones-magazine office. Countless thrift stores. A dilapidated looking music store, this one Peyton probably knows about, since the window is covered by posters of emo-looking losers wearing black t-shirts that says: Anti-fucking-social or some other cry for help shitty slogan. Don't forget the heavy black eyeliner. Fucking losers. No wonder Peyton could be such a real drama princess.

Nathan sucks in an angry breath. He's pissed off at himself for ending up here. Actually, check that, he's pissed off at Haley because she's the one who's voluntarily locking up the café every freaking night. She's mentioned it to him every time he tries to lure her to tutor him at his house, his bedroom hopefully. But no. Not tonight or last night or any other night for that matter. She always has that stupid café as an excuse.

He tries to calm himself, takes in a deep breath and decides that it's stupid to get angry now. He's here already so he might as well get through with… with… well, crap, he isn't even sure what he's going to do once Haley steps outside the damn café. It's not like he can just walk up to her and say hi, because that will just go over really well. She'll be even more wary of him and that's the last thing that he needs right now. If he's going to win her trust, he has to do it the right way, which means being really, fucking, honest to goodness sincere. Besides, who knows who else might be inside the infamous Karen's Café? Word gets around that he's been over here and his father would definitely hit the roof. It's bad enough that his own mother is working here, chummying it all up with his dad's ex. The last thing he needs is his father baring him from seeing his tutor.

_His_ tutor. Well, hell, he definitely likes the sound of that. If only _his_ tutor would just leave and get the fuck out of that café already. He's feeling like he's stalking her and he isn't. He can go over there no problem, stick it to Lucas some more but he isn't in the mood tonight and he just wants to… he just wants to ask if she thinks maybe she could tutor him next term and maybe until he's figure out what exactly he should do to her. With her. Whatever.

Tim's bright idea is starting to look really, really dumb and Nathan has sworn to himself to never, ever listen to any of Tim's harebrained plots.

Steal the tutor girl.

Yeah, right. It's working fucking wonders for him.

Haley won't even walk with him to class.

What _is_ up with that?

He's never considered himself a social outcast. Any other girl in Tree Hill High, on any given day would be beyond thrilled but apparently not Haley James. She can't walk with him to class because she's supposed to meet up with Lucas before the first bell. Was Lucas such a fucking pansy that he can't get through the day without his bestfriend holding his hand? Is it any wonder why the guy has never had a girlfriend before? What Lucas should do is leave Haley alone and go see Peyton so they can both brood over the lonely sadness of their misunderstood selves. Emo cheerleader and angsty jock. So perfect for each other.

Nathan glances at his watch, mutters another string of curses. How long does it take to close up a small café? And is she always out this late? By herself? Jesus, the girl must have some pretty deluded idea of how wonderfully happy and safe the streets of Tree Hill are. He doesn't realize it, but he starts pacing, getting himself all worked up again. After another five minutes of scowling darkly at anything and everything that his eye sets upon, Nathan has had it.

Fuck this. He's done waiting. Screw Lucas. If he's going to be thrown out of the café at least he's gotten the chance to see Haley tonight. He strides purposely towards the establishment cursing everything in sight and then suddenly stops dead on his tracks as Lucas bolts out of the door, movements jerky and angry. Nathan watches with growing disdain as Dan's seed of mistake stalks off, hands deep inside the pocket of his jeans, Haley's voice, soft and muffled, coming from inside the café, calling out his name.

He raises his eyebrows and frowns at the sudden walk out. An hour ago everything was fine between Haley and Lucas. The frown deepens as he realizes that Lucas is gone and he isn't coming back. The stupid cocksucker's just walking away. Leaving Haley all by herself. At this ungodly hour. Un-fucking-believable. What a fucking jackhole.

Gritting his teeth, suddenly beyond irritated, Nathan shakes his head, doesn't even wait until Lucas is out of sight before jogging over to the café. He's just going to have to think up of an excuse why he's here. Like an emergency exam or something more pathetic than that. Something that will make her take pity on him.

He instantly cringes at that. No, he thinks resolutely, the last thing he needs from her is pity. He'll just let her be mad at him. That's a lot better than her feeling sorry for some stupid lie. Win her trust, that's the objective. Besides, she gets all cute and flustered when angry. That'll be something worth seeing.

It takes him three long, determined strides and suddenly, there he is, standing right in front of the glass doors bearing Karen's name. He pauses, realizes yet again how stupid he's been to ever actually believe the lies his father has been feeding him all this time. The past is always going to be here, maybe not always walking hand-in-hand with the present, ladidida, but it sure as hell never goes away. It always finds away to spring up and kick you in the ass.

_See this Dad, I'm at café. And just like mom, I don't even care what you'll think or say. Bite me._

He pushes all thoughts about his manipulative, overbearing father, grits his teeth and spends a whole second staring blankly at the Closed sign dangling so fixed and seemingly permanent in front of him. For a brief moment he wonders if wanting Haley James is something that could be stopped. There has to be some pill or drink to swallow down so that he doesn't always feel this way every time he's near her.

He sees movement from the corner of his eyes and he quickly glances up. She's standing at the middle of the café, her hair is all messed up, brown and wavy and perfect that way. The light from the street lamp is hitting her in all the right ways and for a brief moment, there's a pale little halo surrounding her head, fading quickly as she moves away, deeper into the dark. He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose hard. _Fuck me_, he thinks, starting to feel a little delirious. This isn't right. He shouldn't allow this sort of feeling… this overwhelming… this… unfamiliar, not entirely bad, but still, this…This whole thing is just so seriously messed up.

There's a long line of Rebound Girls – Tim's term – ready and willing and waiting for him and he's here, mooning right outside the café of his what? His father's old high school sweetheart, mother of his half-brother – Jesus, half-brother? Where did that come from? What happened to stain in the bed? Shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts, he stars to softly knock, not wanting to startle or frighten her. Nathan didn't think he'll be able to stand it if she looks at him with scared brown eyes, like he's going to hurt her or something. He calls out her name, his voice low, maybe even gentle and he winces as she slightly jumps up in surprise, her hands going to her chest, clutching her heart.

He actually wants to do the same thing, but how fucking girly and ridiculous is he going to look if he did just that? He keeps his fist jammed inside the pockets of his jeans. He's completely taken aback at how he could still clearly see the color of her eyes, deep dark brown and she's looking at him like he's not really there and something inside his chest squeezes painfully against his stomach. He doesn't know what else to do or say, so he waits for her. If she turns her back and ignore him, he'll walk away. If she asks him to go and leave her alone, he will.

Nathan realizes that this is the exact moment where he's going to have to make a choice and he's not going to take it, instead, he'll give it to her, the chance to walk away and cut him out off her life. He's doing this so that in the end, no matter how screwed up his intentions had been in the beginning, at least he knows that at last minute, for the first time in his life, he didn't act like the selfish bastard that he is.

He watches her watch him and it suddenly hits him, why she's there on the other side, and a locked door in between them. He cringes at this, jerks his head, tries not look at her face. It's nice to know that someone has warned her about him. Probably Lucas. Stupid bastard. He lets out a sigh: defeated, angry, sad, hopeful and everything else in between.

He's not going to go through with the plan. That's why he's here. That's why he came here. He knows it now and there's nothing left to do but to just walk away. And isn't he just so much like his father?

For a moment, he contemplates on whether or not he should apologize to her but then she wouldn't know what the apology is for, so that's just stupid. He shakes his head and without another glance, walks away. He doesn't know where he'll go. Not home, that's for certain. He can't go to Peyton right now either; he's forgone that right and they're not even friends yet so that's out of the question. He's thinking he should go to the docks, that'll be a fitting place to go. Maybe there he could let it all go and free himself of everything that Haley James has become to him. Tutor, almost-semi friend. Someone who's always been patient with him. Someone who actually listens to him. Challenges him. Amuses him. Makes him want to not be a jerk. Makes him want to… fuck it.

It's all so sudden, he tells himself, it can't be this deep – whatever it is that he's feeling for her. He's spent what? A few weeks with her? To feel this way is obviously some raging hormonal testosterone side effect. She's pretty, sure, even though she doesn't seem to be aware of it, which makes it so-painfully-sexy but the bottom line is, it's still just attraction, right? It's merely a physical thing. Too physical in fact that it's beginning to cloud his emotions and his judgment. He isn't… he's not…

"Nathan! Nathan, wait!"

The force of her voice is quiet, really, it is. She's not even shouting but it's enough to stop him. He can't make himself turn because what if he's just making this all up inside his head? What if he's just hearing the sound of her small feet running towards him?

"Nathan," And suddenly, there she is, right in front of him, a little out of breath.

God, she's so small. She's wearing flats and she's just so small. He's towering over her and she's looking up at him, her neck arching so gracefully, so invitingly. He wants to bend down a little and… and do _everything_ with that curve of her neck.

"What-" She begins, shakes her head, runs her hand through her hair. She stares into his eyes and Nathan can't help but smirk a little. She isn't rambling. Well, this is a surprise.

She doesn't appreciate the smirk because suddenly, she's scowling up at him. "You can't just appear out of nowhere, stand there like some creepy stalker looking all sad and broody and angry and before I can even decide if I'm having some weird pineapple pizza induced hallucination you just suddenly walk away. What is your deal, Nathan? I can't believe you'd just suddenly show up after Lucas and I… I mean, God, I didn't ask for any signs. I just wanted to go home, sleep everything off and would you stop with that smirk!"

Why the hell he thinks her rambling is cute, he doesn't know. He just thinks that it is. It's cute and sexy at the same time. He doesn't say anything. He knows that she isn't finished yet. Actually, he's hoping that she's not finished yet.

"What is so funny?" She asks agitatedly.

Obviously he has yet to erase the smirk off his face and suddenly he isn't angry anymore, he's just enjoying this moment with her, no matter how ludicrous it may be. He's also relived that she's right in front of him. She's here despite the many reasons why she shouldn't be here. Best thing is she's here on her own free will. He didn't have to ask her or force her or plead with her. He's actually feeling a little giddy, in a manly kind of way, of course... and then realization hits him. It hits him hard enough to erase any lingering trace of his smile. He looks down at her, suddenly feeling… lost. What now? What now that she's here? He frowns and clenches his jaws. It's not like she knows what she had walked into, following him into the night. Did that mean that he had somehow tricked her?

"Haley, I…" He begins, uncertain of what to say. He hasn't figured this one out yet.

"Is there something wrong? I mean, are you ok?" He senses the immediate concern in her voice followed by an exasperated sigh and a roll her eyes. She shakes her head and glares at him. "Of course you're ok." She mumbles, glancing at him, giving him a quick once over, her eyes lingering somewhere between his chest and stomach, "You are fine, right?"

"Yeah, I am." He assures her. "At least, that's what most girls say, anyway." He can't help that little quip. It's her fault anyway. He likes it that she's concerned about him but more than that, he likes it that he can frustrate her as well. It's almost sort of a well-deserved payback for all the angst or whatever it is that she's been putting him through ever since the day he gave her that crackerjack bracelet. He makes a quick sneak peak at her wrist and he's satisfied that she's still wearing it. He doesn't comment on this of course. Maybe later.

"I don't know why I even… I am just, I am so… ugh! This has been a night from Twilight Zone so if anyone out there could just cue in the music while I chalk this all up to Why I Should Never Let Lucas Talk Me Into Eating Left Over Pizzas." She mumbles all these quietly to herself, all in one breath too. She looks at him one last time, her face unreadable. She's looking at him like she's searching for something. He doesn't know what, so he remains still, keeping his eyes, his whole attention focused on her.

Even in the semi-darkness, he sees the blush creeping up from her neck to her cheeks.

"Ugh! I am so going home." She announces, pushing past him.

He's never had her this close before, at least not without Lucas as an audience, and this makes it a first, add the fact that he's never really been good with control to begin with and with her practically tucked underneath his chin, her arms brushing against his, her scent invading his senses, he's left with pretty much no choice at all.

It's instinct, it's automatic.

He grabs her, side steps her surprised jerk and then he almost harshly – to cover up his nervousness – pulls her to him. His grip is gentle though, a little tentative even. He moves his left arm around her waist so that she's effectively trapped inside his arms.

"What are you…" She asks but she doesn't sound panicked, in fact, her voice is low, a little husky and Nathan notices that her breath is warm, fluttery, like delicate transparent wings and shit, he's sprouting poetry, bad poetry, okay…but still...

"Nathan…"

The way she murmurs her name erases any self-depreciating thoughts he might have had. He looks down at her, presses her even closer to him, until her cheeks is practically laying against his chest. He feels wisps of her hair tickling his chin. "You can slap me later, ok." He tells her, his own voice is hoarse, barely a whisper. He feels her trembling and he prays to God or whoever that she doesn't feel or hear the way his heart is brutally, painfully, thudding against his rib cage. He feels as though he's running non-stop. It feels freeing.

"Nathan," This time her voice is laced with worry, she scrunches up her face at him and she looks adorable – no girl ever looked adorable to him and meant a good thing, but she is, Haley James, sweet, adorable, perfect and he wants to kiss her so badly he knows he'll do it, despite the warning bells already starting to sound off inside his head.

_Too soon_. Too fucking soon. But he's too far gone to give a damn.

"Nathan, what are you talking abou-mhmp."

She doesn't get to finish her sentence. His lips have found hers and he's thinking that this isn't how he wanted to end the night, but oh, God, she smells so good, she fits so perfectly in his arms, her lips are so soft, _she's_ so soft. He swallows back a moan and instead pulls her tighter against him, keeping the kiss gentle, just lips touching lips and God, it's not enough. He knows it now, it's never going to be enough but he has to let go because he could feel her pushing against him. He reluctantly loosens his grip on her and she quickly takes a step back. Her eyes are huge and darker, so much more darker.

"You… you shouldn't have done that."

He looked at her in the eye and tells her the truth. "I wanted to."

She looks away and sadly shakes her head. He sees tha way her chest is moving, the way she's sucking in deep breaths and he could tell she's near panicking. He doesn't know how to calm her but she surprises him when she stares up at him, her face a mixture of possible every emotion that he's feeling right now.

"Nathan, I… I have… I have to go home." She says this tearfully, her voice small and tremulous.

He nods, feeling the sudden numbness creeping in. He's ruined it. He's ruined it all because he has no patience, because he couldn't wait, because he just had to act on his impulses and he's ruined it. "I… I'll take you home." He can't let her go yet. He gestures over to the car he's left parked at the other end of the street but she shakes her head, her teeth biting down hard on the very lips he had just kissed.

So this is how temptation feels like, Nathan thinks, swallowing hard, keeping his distance.

"No, please… I… I need to walk this off." She's looks up at him, almost pleadingly.

He nods his head, shrugs his shoulder, trying desperately to bring a little bit of normalcy back. He thinks it's surprising that there isn't any awkwardness between them, just tension – but the good kind, almost like the one he feels at every start of a game.

"Then I'll walk with you." He insists, trying not to sound irritated with her. If she didn't want him kissing her, then that's fine with him, he's not yet that insane to suddenly start begging her. He still has a little left of that arrogant jerk who can't and won't take no for an answer.

"Nathan," She breathes out his name, a little angrily this time, her eyes slanting, letting him know that she might actually be seriously considering slapping him now.

"Haley, you're crazy if you think that I'm letting you just go off on your own. I won't even talk. I… I'll walk behind you." It's a good enough excuse. He's willing to walk all the way to her house and back here again. He needs to walk this off too.

She looks away, bites her lips even harder.

Nathan groans. "Haley, I'm going to walk you home whether or not you agree with me."

She scowls at him. "Unbelievable!" She mutters darkly.

"Please." He says this in a huff, not in a pleasant, beseeching kind of way. It actually sounds more like a demand, an order she has to obey. She obviously doesn't like that tone of voice. The girl is impossible! He's already pleaded with her and he's never ever pleaded with a girl about something as ridiculous as walking her home. If she still doesn't agree, he's going to grab her, pick her up, haul her over his shoulder and then taker her home. He knows where she lives anyway, it's not like he needs her for direction. Let's see how she'll like that.

Haley is still glaring at him but she must've read his mind or something 'cause she's shaking her head like she's just made a decision and she's already regretting. She noisily puffs out a sigh, strands of hair flying away from her face. "Ok. Fine." Her voice is so quiet he almost didn't hear her. "Fine. You don't talk. Not a word. Nothing. Zilch. Zip. Silence. I like my silence." She informs him, giving him one last warning look before wordlessly walking away.

It takes Nathan half a second to realize that she's letting him actually walk with her. She might not be willing to talk about the kiss or even acknowledge it but she didn't slap him for it either Definitely a good sign. Smirking, hoping she doesn't turn her head right about now, Nathan quietly follows her, feeling his spirits rise a little. It's not a huge step to whatever it is that they're heading for but it's definitely worth something getting his hopes up. And dammit, she's has all the right curves in all the right places.

"Quit staring." She hisses suddenly stopping, making a small ungraceful half-pirouette so that she's facing him.

He snorts softly, raises his eyebrows, "Can't a guy enjoy the view?"

She narrows her eyes at him but he could see her lips curving upwards, "I seem to remember something about you insisting on walking me home, God knows why, so either you do just that or you go away and leave me alone."

"This isn't walking?" He asks, not able to help himself from sounding cocky.

Haley rolls her eyes. "It's following me around staring at my… staring at… it's not _walking_." She insists, crossing her arms against her chest as though daring him to contradict her.

Nathan knows when to fold. He silently jogs over to her side, keeps his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Better?" He asks, raising one of his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side, watching as she colors prettily.

"No talking Nathan." She reminds reproachfully although Nathan is quick to catch the almost, bordering on playful tone in her voice.

She resumes her walk and he keeps his steps small, wincing at how ridiculous he's looking right now. He wonders how serious she is with keeping quiet. He's never really liked silence. It always makes him think, always crowds his brain with innumerable thoughts. He glances furtively at Haley. She says no talking but she'll forgive him, no one can really resists his charms anyway. "Hey, Haley," He ventures out, keeping his voice light.

"What?" She grumbles dispassionately not looking at him, keeping her eyes focused straight ahead.

He likes her all serious and contemplative but that's so not the point right now so he forges on ahead, seeing that she's letting him speak, at least for now. "So, you say you're Math, right." He feels the corner of his lips stretching up as Haley lets out an exasperated sigh. "I have an equation for you to solve." He can't help the challenging tone of his voice, can't help the smirk, can't help his jaws from arrogantly jutting out. Girls always like him this way which means that it won't work with Haley but it's fun to see her try to resist.

This time she looks up at him surprised, he didn't expect that reaction. She opens her mouth as though she's about to say something, deciding against it after a split second, finally shaking her head, nervously biting her lower lips. "Nathan… not now. You said you're not going talk and I said I'm not going to talk and this is just dumb, so let's just be silently walking. Ok?"

She doesn't have to say please, he could sense that she means it. She's not yet ready to talk to him. He shrugs his shoulder and nods his head. He doesn't want to push her and his luck but it still doesn't stop him from wondering what she might be thinking. Why her eyes had suddenly sparked like that. He lets it slide, though. He'll ask her tomorrow. Or maybe, he won't. He already has it all figured out anyway.

They continue walking silently, just as she has requested and Nathan thinks that if someone sees them, someone from the social circle he belongs to, they'll think that this is an odd sight: Nathan Scott and Haley James walking side by side, a contemplative, calm, peaceful silence surrounding them.

Nathan realizes next that he doesn't care and this is the closest thing to perfection that he has ever had in a long, long time. He smirks a little to himself. At least the equation in his mind isn't so pansy assed anymore. Right now, it seems actually possible.

_Nathan Scott + Haley James equals perfection_


End file.
